Lovers and Possibilities
by UrbanMuse
Summary: Nearing the end of Mac's medical leave following his shooting, Mac and Jo are looking forward to bringing their burgeoning relationship to a new level. But the stress inherent in their job proves to have more of an impact on them as a couple than either thought possible. [Set between Seasons 8&9]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: CSI NY and the characters don't belong to me - just the ideas in my story. No copyright infringement intended; no profit being made.**

**A/N: This is the sequel to what has now grown into a Trilogy, beginning with Friends and Opportunities and continuing in Couples and Expectations. Although each one follows on from the last, I've written them in such a way that they can easily stand alone. **

**Also, while I'd originally intended for this to be a one-shot like the previous two, it kinda took on a life of its own. I decided to have some fun with it, so I've ended up expanding it and dividing it into chapters. Not certain how many there will be in the end. And while I've learned not to promise anything, I have a fair amount already written so the next chapter should be up very soon.**

**WARNING: Please be patient **** The earlier chapters don't warrant the M rating; the later one(s) will - so consider yourself warned if that's not your thing! Enjoy.**

Lovers & Possibilities

Mac Taylor gazed out the window of the taxi as it crawled through the Friday evening traffic. Despite the mild forecast, a light rain had started falling, coating everything in a grey haze and further snarling the rush hour commute. Mac sighed as the cabbie slammed his hand down on the horn for perhaps the twentieth time, braking just in the nick of time to avoid hitting a bike messenger weaving through the stop and go traffic.

His phone began to vibrate and he furrowed his brow, curious as to who might be calling him. Since being out on disability leave following his shooting, it had seemed his phone rang less and less often. The initial flurry of visits and calls from well-wishers once he had regained consciousness had tapered off over the ensuing weeks. And since Christine had moved up-state to care for her ailing father just over a month ago, even her calls were becoming few and far between. Now it seemed a rare occurrence that anyone tried to contact him at all. Presumably people were just giving him space – letting him concentrate on his recovery. Or - and he begrudged himself the thought - perhaps it was merely an indication that his life was so intrinsically tied to work that, now that he was on leave, no one particularly felt the need to reach out to him on a personal level.

Except Jo, he thought, glancing at the name on the caller ID. A soft smile broke out across his face. Only to morph almost immediately into a frown. Surely she wasn't calling to cancel dinner at her place tonight? They'd planned it last weekend, after a pleasant evening out that had ended on a rather heated note, full of promise and possibility for their growing relationship. She was supposed to finish work early tonight and cook dinner for their second official date. At her place. Just the two of them. Something Mac had been looking forward to with barely subdued anticipation since their passionate farewell kiss in front of her building nearly a week prior.

"Hey, Jo." He answered, the smile on his face evident in the tone of his voice. In response, he was greeted by the shriek of an ambulance siren in the background. He winced, not so much from the shrill sound as from his immediate assumption that this certainly did not bode well for their evening plans.

A moment later the siren receded and Jo's voice came across the line. "Mac? Can you hear me?"

"Just barely Jo."

"Listen, Mac…" But the remainder of her sentence was drowned out by another siren. A squad car this time, he thought morosely.

They both paused, awaiting a break in the cacophony filtering over the phone line. He heard Jo let out an annoyed sigh and he spoke, hoping to cheer her up. "I hope you're calling from a crime scene, and not your apartment."

She graced him with one of her contagious laughs. "Don't worry – I am. But Lord, given the state I left my apartment in this morning, one could easily mistake it for a crime scene."

He chuckled, the image of her chaotic desk flashing through his mind and expanding to incorporate her entire home. "You ok?"

"Of course. _I'm_ fine. Now, the D.B. lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the living room here? Decidedly not fine. I'm just waitin' for them to clear the whole scene so Adam and I can get started."

"Last minute call out, huh?"

She groaned. "You said it. Fifteen minutes before my shift was supposed to end. I mean, honestly. I was just packing up to leave. The audacity. Couldn't the killer have waited just a few more minutes?"

Mac laughed lightly. "Maybe you should be blaming the witness that called it in? If only they'd shown up fifteen minutes later . . ."

She snorted. "Hmm. You might have a point there. Just wait 'til I get my hands on him…" She blew out a breath. "Seriously, though. I'm clearly going to be late. The night shift should be able to take over the Lab work once we process, so hopefully it won't be more than an hour. Scene sounds pretty clear-cut." She paused, continuing in a hesitant tone. "But dinner . . . well, I haven't exactly bought the groceries yet, so we may have to improvise."

Mac shook his head, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "Not to worry. Why don't you give me a call when you're close to finishing up and we can decide what to do then? I'll just wait to hear from you…" The cabbie suddenly honked again, this time punctuating it with a loud, surprisingly well-articulated string of expletives. Mac cringed.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for just a moment, then Jo spoke again. "Mac?" She hesitated. "Are you . . . already on your way to my place?" Her hesitant comment didn't camouflage the undertone of humor in her voice.

He glanced down at his watch. Even with the unexpected rain shower and the horrendous traffic, he had to admit he was going to be embarrassingly early for their 7:00 date. He was nearly there already. "Uhhmm. Maybe."

Jo chuckled, then Mac heard her inhale deeply. When she spoke, her voice was low, playful. "I see. Didn't wanna be late tonight, huh?"

"When have you ever known me to be late?" His tone was full of mock affront, but when he continued, it mirrored her own playful mood. "And, I suppose it's possible I...might have missed you. A week's a long time." He murmured softly.

She let out a poorly stifled groan. "Oh, Mac, I can't even tell you how desperately I've been waiting for tonight…" Mac's eyebrows quirked, but he said nothing, "…having the whole evening to ourselves. All the possibilities…" Her voice was suddenly lower, breathy; whether because she was trying to prevent someone else from hearing, or…for other reasons…he wasn't entirely sure.

Mac shifted in his seat and unbuttoned the top button of his jacket, suddenly feeling decidedly warmer than earlier. His mind pulled him back to their last kiss and all the promise it had held. He cleared his throat before attempting to speak. "Well, I'm pretty sure we've still got the whole evening together; it just may start a bit later than anticipated."

"I know. But I'm on call tomorrow. First thing." She sighed again, continuing on a more sultry note. "What can I say? I'm greedy. I wanted as much time with you as possible." She paused for emphasis. "Uninterrupted." Her last words were barely louder than a whisper, but Mac had no trouble hearing her. By this point, he'd completely forgotten about anything else around him, the rain, the horns, the traffic, even the cabbie, who by now seemed to be paying more attention to listening in on his passenger's conversation, than watching the flow of traffic. Mac shot him a glare and he averted his eyes back to the road. Jo continued, the playful tone evident again in her voice. "Hey, speaking of interruptions, you brought your meds this time, right?"

He smirked, recalling how last weekend, perhaps the only thing that had kept them from ending up together at Jo's apartment had been the fact he didn't have his medication with him. "I've got them right here in my pocket. Believe me, that's the first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning."

He heard her giggle softly, then suddenly clear her throat, and when she continued, her tone was serious again. "Listen, I am going to be late, so..."

Mac smiled to himself, assuming her change in demeanor was for the benefit of someone nearby on her end. "Well, just call me when you're close to finishing. I'll keep myself busy 'til then."

"OK, thanks. Will do. I've gotta go – scene's cleared." Her tone dropped at least an octave and she whispered in an exaggeratedly sexy Southern drawl: "I'll be countin' the minutes 'til I get outta here, believe me." And she hung up.

Mac could just imagine her barely concealed smile, that glint in her eye right about now. God, he couldn't wait to see her. He looked out the window and sighed, realizing they weren't even moving at the moment. He leaned further back into the seat and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander as he thought about where their evening together might lead.

Just over fifteen minutes later, he was jolted from his reverie by another loud horn blast, this time directed at the cab. Glancing out the window, he realized they were just around the corner from Jo's place. More than ready to escape the confines of the taxi, he indicated to the driver he would get out now.

Handing over the fare, he stepped out, walking towards a newsstand to grab a newspaper before heading to the café down the block. As he stood in line, his phone vibrated again. He glanced at it and frowned. Jo. Again.

"Hey. That must have been the most straightforward crime scene in history. The killer leave behind his to do list or something?"

Jo laughed, but barely. Mac noticed immediately it was lacking...something. It's usual vibrancy, it's melodic chime. It sounded flat, almost forced. And seemed to catch in her throat before even reaching its peak. "Jo, what's wrong?" Mac continued, his tone concerned.

He could hear her sigh and there was a long pause before she spoke. "Nothing's wrong. I'm...fine."

Mac's brow furrowed. She sounded anything but fine. Mac waited as she took a deep breath, but before either of them could speak, he heard more yelling and another siren, followed by the screeching of tires.

"Jo?"

When she finally spoke again, he could hear the tension in her voice. "Listen…I'm going to be later than expected. Maybe even a few hours, Mac. I really can't tell right now." She paused and he heard her begin talking to someone else, but couldn't catch the words. A moment later she continued. "I'm so sorry Mac. You shouldn't wait around for me. Maybe it's better if we just reschedule…"

Mac tried his best to disguise the disappointment in his own voice. "Don't apologize Jo. I understand. But let's not give up so quickly. Let's see…" Mac was trying to think of a way to salvage their evening, wondering absently if this is how Christine had felt every time he'd called to cancel or reschedule their plans. It was his turn to pay for his paper, and as he fumbled in his pants pocket for change, his key ring fell out onto the ground. Grabbing it up and stepping to the side after paying, he was just about to jam his keys back into his pocket when he caught sight of one key in particular. It jarred his memory and he smiled sadly. "You know, Jo. I still have a copy of your apartment key – the one you gave me…" His smile suddenly faded and he paused, uncertain whether he should've headed in this direction, but Jo finished for him before he could continue.

"…after I shot John Curtis. When you drove me home."

His voice was barely audible. "Yea."

There was a long pause before Jo spoke again. "Ok…well, keep it. I'm not breaking up with you – I'm just not sure tonight's gonna work." Her attempt at a small joke had fallen flat, given the lack of humor in her voice.

Mac frowned again. She wasn't getting his point. "Jo, I just thought, since I've got your key, if you don't mind me inviting myself over right now, I could wait for you at your place. I could even make us dinner or . . ."

She broke in before he'd figured out exactly what more he had to say. "Mac. I invited you to dinner. You shouldn't cook. And I really don't know when I'll be back. It could be late. Don't go to all that trouble for nothing."

"Jo. If you don't want me waiting around in your apartment, then just tell me so. I'll understand. But if this is all about who's cooking or who invited whom or how late you might be, I could really care less. I . . . I'd just like to see you. To spend some time with you. If it ends up being a cup of tea together at midnight, well, then, so be it."

When she continued, Mac could detect a slight tremor in her voice that definitely hadn't been there before. "Oh Mac, I really wanted to see you too." He caught her use of the past tense and wondered at its significance. She inhaled loudly, clearly trying to get her emotions under control. "I'm sorry Mac. Things here…took a turn for the worse."

"Jo. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just . . . it's been a crazy day, that's all. Go ahead…wait at my place if you want. Ellie's gone all night. I'll finish up as soon as possible. Don't bother with dinner."

Before Mac could respond, Don Flack's voice, slightly out of breath, could be heard, apparently right next to Jo. "Jo, they got 'im. Coupla blocks down. Ya wanna minute with him?"

Mac furrowed his brow at Don's words, but Jo's hurried voice came back across the line, preventing him from inquiring. "Ah, I need to go. I'll…call you later. 'Bye." Before she terminated the call, Mac heard her begin speaking away from the phone, presumably to Don. "Absolutely. I need to look him in the eye." And the line went dead.

Mac sighed, staring at the blank screen of his phone. He wanted to call her back. To find out what was going on. But he knew he needed to let her focus on the job right now. And she'd cut him off more than once during their last date when he'd asked about work. He decided to let it go until they were together later. Sighing in frustration, he noticed a small grocery store across the street. He walked quickly through the light mist towards the storefront, intent on making dinner for Jo regardless of her insistence to the contrary. If for no other reason than to keep his mind from dwelling on all the possible causes for her sudden and uncharacteristic change in mood tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**End of Previous Chapter:**

Mac sighed, staring at the blank screen of his phone. He wanted to call her back. To find out what was going on. But he knew he needed to let her focus on the job right now. And she'd cut him off more than once during their last date when he'd asked about work. He decided to let it go until they were together later. Sighing in frustration, he noticed a small grocery store across the street. He walked quickly through the light mist towards the storefront, intent on making dinner for Jo regardless of her insistence to the contrary. If for no other reason than to keep his mind from dwelling on all the possible causes for her sudden and uncharacteristic change in mood tonight_._

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Lovers and Possibilities – Chapter 2

Two hours later, Mac heard footsteps outside the door to Jo's apartment, followed by the sound of keys jangling in the lock. He turned on the couch where he'd been flipping through last week's New Yorker and looked towards the entry just in time to watch as Jo passed through the doorway. She hadn't registered his presence yet, and he noted immediately the tightness in her features, reflecting all the tension and worry he'd heard in her voice earlier on the telephone. As she turned to push the door closed, she leaned her forehead against it for just a moment, her eyes closing, oblivious to everything around her.

As Mac stood and took a step towards her, she jumped slightly, startled. Recognition flashed quickly across her features, though, and she offered up a weak smile. He noticed how her tired eyes held none of their usual sparkle, her brow remained creased, her complexion rather pallid. "Hey. I didn't see you there." She murmured weakly. "Sorry to make you wait."

He tried to smile, but he knew the concern was obvious in his features. "I'm just glad you made it." Was all that he could manage to say. He waited while she hung up her jacket, toed off her boots and dropped her bag onto the floor nearby. When she turned back to him, he approached slowly, glancing at his watch. "It's really not so late. Barely even eight o'clock."

"Yea. Got lucky, I guess." She replied, nodding absently.

He'd intended to give her a hug, or perhaps a kiss, but as he reached his hand out towards her, she did the same, grasping his in her own and effectively cutting off his ability to touch any other part of her. She gave his hand a light squeeze, pulling it upwards to plant a quick kiss on it, then she let go rather abruptly, turning and walking towards the kitchen. She stopped dead as she rounded the corner and noticed the table set for the two of them. She turned to look at Mac, her brow furrowed. "You cooked."

Mac quirked his head at her. "I did."

"I thought I told you not to cook?" She stated suddenly, frowning at him.

He looked at her, somewhat taken aback. "Well, you don't have to eat it. I just thought you might deserve a home-cooked meal. Sounds like you had a rough day."

She seemed to contemplate that for a moment. "You could say that," she replied,more softly, the earlier flash of annoyance seeming to dissipate.

They approached the table together and Jo paused, eying the salad, the bowl of green beans, the loaf of Italian bread, the bottle of red wine. Her gaze followed Mac to the stove, where he was uncovering a pot of boiling water next to a pan of steaming tomato sauce. He glanced over at her. "I just need to boil the spaghetti – everything else is done." He dropped the uncooked pasta into the pot, gave it a quick stir and turned towards her, a subdued smile playing at the edges of his mouth and eyes. But her own eyes, staring back at him, were empty. Her expression flat.

Mac sighed and, after placing the wooden spoon down on the counter, walked over to where Jo was standing on the other side of the breakfast counter. He stopped only a few inches from her and stood, stock still, staring at her for a moment. He considered reaching out and placing a hand on her arm - in a gesture of support, or perhaps just understanding. But he _didn't_ understand. And it was beginning to worry him. Even irritate him. He wasn't certain right now which sentiment was stronger.

He leaned back against the counter and stared at her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Her gaze suddenly met his. "About what?"

Mac closed his eyes to avoid rolling them. "About what's so obviously bothering you."

She crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes slightly and stared at him a moment. Mac had the sense she was preparing for battle. But a moment later, she sighed loudly, uncrossed her arms, letting them hit her thighs with a slap, and shook her head. "No. Mac. I don't."

"Jo…" Mac took a small step towards her, but she turned abruptly and walked towards the doorway.

"I need to use the bathroom," she stated simply, turning to leave. But before she exited the kitchen, she sensed him move to follow her and she glanced back over her shoulder. "You should keep your eye on that pasta – you don't want it to be overdone." And she disappeared around the corner.

Mac shook his head in frustration, wanting to follow her, but getting the clear sense that she wanted to be left alone for now. He turned his attention to the stovetop instead.

Jo returned a few minutes later, just as Mac was placing the bowl of spaghetti on the table. She paused in front of her seat, avoiding his gaze. "Thank you Mac. This is…nice."

He shrugged. "Well, it's nothing special." And he pulled out a chair, gesturing for her to sit then pushing it closer after she complied. He lingered a moment, hesitantly moving his hand from the back of the chair to her shoulder, where he simply squeezed gently. His finger tangled in a lock of her hair. "Your hair's damp. Is it still raining?" He was certain it had stopped shortly after he'd arrived at Jo's.

She shook her head absently. "I took a shower at the Lab." Before he could remark upon the fact that she virtually never showered at the Lab, her own hand reached up tentatively, coming to rest on his, still on her shoulder. But she moved it a moment later to reach out and pour herself some wine. Just as she did so, her phone rang. Mac brought his hand back to his side as he heard her sigh heavily, pulling the phone from her pocket. She glanced at Mac. "It's Don. I need to take this." He nodded and she rose, walking away from the table and into the hallway.

Mac sat down, frowning to himself, as he watched her walk away. When she'd come home and he'd seen that heavy air of preoccupation about her, he'd decided to give her some time, to refrain from pressuring her into talking about whatever was so clearly bothering her. Assuming she'd open up to him any moment now. Because that's how she was. Who she was. But that didn't seem to be the case tonight. It was as if she was someone else.

He stared blankly at the hallway where Jo had gone to take the call, thinking about her. About how she had always seemed ready to share whatever was on her mind. Not just ready to share. Perhaps compelled to do so. As if she just couldn't manage to keep what she was feeling inside from bubbling to the surface, particularly around him. He could recall so many instances when she'd approached him at the Lab, confided in him, opened her heart to him. Needing to experience the catharsis that he assumed it provided her. He rarely did anything but listen attentively. Provide a supportive, but always honest, statement on occasion. Yet now, she was clearly hiding something. And hiding it poorly. And he wasn't certain exactly how to react in this situation. He hoped this was not somehow a product of the newfound developments in their relationship.

He decided to give her a few more minutes to relax with dinner before pressing her to talk. She finished her call and returned to the table, sitting down heavily next to him, but not yet sliding her chair up to the table. She sat still a moment, clearly lost in thought.

"Everything ok?" Mac asked her, trying to sound neutral as he reached out his hand and gently placed it on her knee, stroking her gently.

She stiffened at his touch, as if he'd caught her by surprise, but she recovered quickly and glanced in his general direction. Another strained smile on her lips. But not looking him in the eye. As a delayed response to his inquiry, she merely nodded and scooted her chair closer to the table, forcing him to remove his hand before it jammed between the table and her leg. He watched as she picked up her fork and stabbed at her spaghetti, then he sighed softly as he focused his attention on his own dinner.

Uncertain exactly how to proceed, Mac first attempted to engage her in conversation. Thinking that it would relax her. Make her more comfortable. Encourage her to talk herself. He recounted how, out of boredom, he'd begun methodically cleaning out every closet and cupboard in his apartment. Wiping down every surface. Reorganizing all of his books, memorabilia and antiques. He'd managed to elicit a few eye rolls, and some subdued laughter from her, but nothing revelatory. She was distant, withdrawn, and seemed to make a point of steering clear of any discussion related to work. Her few attempts at participating in the flow of conversation were focused almost entirely on her kids. Finally, he decided he couldn't let it go any further. Frowning, he took a sip of wine and leaned back in his chair looking at her for just a moment, trying to decide how best to begin what he feared would turn into an interrogation. One in which he wasn't entirely certain who would gain the upper hand.

Jo felt his gaze and knew what was coming. Before he could ask her what was bothering her, she forced a smile. "So, when will you be back to the Lab? You said another week or so, right?" Her voice sounded … breezy and light, Mac decided. Feigned. She was clearly trying to divert his attention from what was bothering her. He sighed and decided to answer anyway.

"Supposedly a week from Monday. Just part-time, desk duty only. I still need to renew my arms certification – retake the qualification test, even though I won't be out in the field for at least another month or more. I actually stopped by the range this morning." He laughed slightly.

She took a bite of her spaghetti and quirked an eyebrow in his direction. "And that was amusing somehow?"

Mac smiled slightly at how she managed to articulate each word despite her mouth being full of pasta.

He shook his head. "Well, my lack of practice definitely showed. I didn't realize how being off for nearly five months might affect one's aim. And I can't even tell you how sore I was after the whole session. I went back to my apartment and took a nap."

She shrugged. "It'll come back Mac. It just takes time."

"Well, hopefully you're right." He glanced up at her, a slight smirk on his face. "I almost wasn't going to tell you. If you'd seen me this morning, I'm not sure you'd ever trust me to back you up out on a call again."

Jo looked at him oddly but her phone beeped. She glanced down at it, quickly reading the short text, then jammed the phone back into her pocket. Mac stared at her carefully. He'd seen the muscle in her cheek tighten as she read the message, but he couldn't quite read the current expression on her face and she continued to avert her eyes.

But the message had clearly affected her. She seemed even more disturbed than before. When she spoke, Mac had to lean in to hear her, her voice was so quiet. "Don't worry Mac. I'd still trust you. Sometimes all the training and practice in the world has nothing to do with it. It's just luck. Or fate maybe…"

She trailed off, her brow furrowed in consternation as she stared into her wine glass, the hand holding it seemingly frozen in midair, halfway to her lips. She suddenly reached out to replace it on the table and Mac noticed her arm trembling. "Jo?" He leaned forward, wondering if she wasn't about to faint.

She set the glass down too quickly, directly onto the edge of her knife, and it wobbled precariously before Mac's hand shot out, righting it before it spilled. When she finally spoke, her voice was shaky, barely a whisper. "Mac, I'm sorry. I need…" She hesitated barely a moment before pushing her chair abruptly back from the table and hurrying away down the hall.

Mac stood a mere second later and strode after her. He turned the corner just in time to see her vanish into the bathroom, the door slamming behind her.

He paused outside, listening, uncertain exactly what had just happened. Was she ill? Was it the text? Or had whatever was bothering her all evening finally become too much for her to suppress any longer. He couldn't understand why she was so withdrawn, although it was clearly related to the crime scene tonight.

He knocked once. "Jo." When she didn't answer, he placed his hand gently on the knob and turned. She hadn't locked it. "Jo. I'm coming in," he announced quietly and pushed the door fully open.

She was standing directly in front of the mirror, staring down at her hands pressed against the counter, obviously trembling. Her brow was furrowed and he was certain he could detect a slight tremor in her bottom lip. She looked lost, defeated. Both unfamiliar states when he thought of Jo. He'd never seen her like this. And it pained him, to see her now, in such obvious emotional pain. He froze a few feet from her, uncertain exactly what to do or say in that precise moment. But she saved him the trouble by speaking herself.

"Mac." Her voice was shaking. "Please. Just give me…I need a minute."

He shook his head, even though she wasn't looking at him. "Jo. I want to help. Talk to me… Did you know someone at that crime scene tonight?"

She shook her head negatively, but didn't provide any further clarification. She sighed. "Maybe it's better that you go Mac. I'm not really…much company tonight."

"Jo. I'm here because I care for you. Because I want to be with you. To be here for you. You don't need to provide company. I'm not expecting you to entertain me. Life is not all fun and games. Do you expect me to take off just because you had a bad day?"

She didn't respond. Her hair was covering her face, but glancing at her reflection in the vanity mirror, he saw her eyes begin to well with tears.

"Jo. Please." He reached out a tentative hand, tucking her hair behind her ear so he could better see her eyes, then moving to stroke her cheek ever so gently with his thumb.

As soon as his hand touched her cheek, her eyes closed. Two tears escaped from behind her lid, dripping onto Mac's hand and he brushed them away. She took a deep, shaky breath. "Tonight. At the crime scene…" Her voice broke and she paused a moment, trying to regain control.

He moved more closely to her, lowering his hand and placing it on her shoulder. She seemed unable to form the words and Mac hazarded a guess. "Did…did you shoot someone?"

A strangled laugh choked out of her throat. He thought perhaps he'd finally hit upon the problem. But then she shook her head vigorously, causing the tendril of hair to fall from behind her ear, blocking Mac's view of her face again. "No, not exactly." She finally mumbled.

She breathed deeply before continuing. "I almost got shot myself. In the head."

A small sound emanated from the back of Mac's throat. Not a sigh, nor a choke, not even a gasp. Rather, that nameless sort of sound one might make upon learning that something too frightening to be acknowledged verbally had actually come to pass. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Feeling a torrent of emotion surge through his mind, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to reign them back in. When they reopened, his gaze immediately trailed to her face, her forehead, her temple, her hair, searching, scanning, for any sign of injury. Content that there was nothing physically obvious, he reached out towards her, clasping his strong hands around her trembling ones, bringing them to her sides and turning her body towards him all in the same movement. He pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Jo…"

Suddenly the words came spilling from her mouth. She barely paused to take a breath.

"I…I was processing the primary scene – bedroom. Adam was with the body, in the entryway. I'd only been there a couple minutes. Right after I'd called you that first time. The bedroom had been cleared. But the window was unlocked. One of the perps must have come back in after the unis cleared it. Before I even showed up. He probably heard me coming to process, and hid in the closet. Must've been watching me through the slats. When I checked under the bed, I found a gun – turned out it was his. He must've come back for it. I was halfway under the bed, with the camera."

She paused and took a shaky breath. "I didn't hear him, Mac. When I crawled back out, he grabbed me from behind just as I stood up. Covered my mouth, restrained my arms. Caught me completely by surprise. He was huge...and strong. I couldn't get out of his grip. He wasn't even armed Mac. But his partner waiting outside on the fire escape was. When I finally managed to kick the guy in the shin, his grip loosened just a little and I tried to go for my piece. But his friend outside saw me try to move. I saw him outside, Mac, take aim right for me, but I couldn't get to my gun." She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears. A moment later, she continued. "And then, like some guardian angel, Don just happened to come into the room. Going on about having to interview more witnesses downstairs. The guy holding me jerked around just as the one outside took his shot."

Jo's hand instinctively rose up to the side of her head. "I heard it, fly right past my head, Mac. But it ended up in his partner's head instead. Just a couple inches from me. Don just texted me to let me know the guy died. That bullet…that bullet that killed him was meant for me, Mac. It came this close to killing _me_."

His grip around her tightened even further and he pressed his face to the side of her own. Mac was at a momentary loss for words. Finally, without thinking, he said the only thing his mind, steeped for too many years in the investigative impulses of a detective, could come up with. "What happened to the guy outside?" He immediately chastised himself for uttering such a stupid question. He should be asking about her. Not the shooter. But she didn't seem to notice.

"Don shot him in the shoulder just before he turned and launched himself down the fire escape. They got him a little while later." He felt her shudder. "I didn't even unholster my piece, Mac. My hands were gloved. I had the camera, the evidence bag with the gun. My arms were pinned. If Don hadn't shown up when he did, if the idiot on the landing hadn't missed me and shot his own partner instead, if the guy hadn't fallen and pulled me with him, giving Don a clear shot out the window…" A soft sob emanated from her as she buried her face in Mac's shoulder. But a moment later, she raised her head back again. "What if Adam, with no weapon, had taken the bedroom instead of me…Don wouldn't have gone to tell him he was leaving – he would only have told me. Then what…" Her voice cracked and she stopped, breathing heavily.

"If . .. If.. . Look at me Jo." He stepped back slightly from her to look her in the eye as she turned her gaze slowly to his, her eyes glassy with more unfallen tears.

"Don't torture yourself Jo. Believe me I'm all too familiar with that. You know how many times I've thought about that afternoon in the pharmacy? Gone over and over it in my head? From every angle. Every nuance. Every possibility. What if I'd left ten minutes later? Ten minutes earlier? Gone to a different pharmacy? Walked up a different aisle once I got there? Not turned my back on that girl? What if someone else had gone in the first place?" He swallowed hard as the memories surged forth in his mind. "Or that time a couple years ago, up on that roof – that gun, held right to my head. And it jammed. Or back when I was in Beirut. Or back to a hundred other instances, a hundred other close calls. Or not so close ones. Take your pick. You can play mind games with your self forever. But in the end, you're here. We're both here, now. Together." He pulled her close again, his hand patting her back. "I'm so sorry, Jo."

Jo nodded, her gaze turning downward for a moment, causing the tears welling in her eyes to drop onto Mac's shirt. "I've had close calls before Mac. But for some reason this seemed different. Nothing came of it, I don't have a mark on me. But it was just way too…close. My hands were shaking so badly after, I couldn't even process – Adam noticed and just took over for me, bless his soul. Took the evidence, the camera. Helped me take off my gloves. Clean my face. That's when I called you. I was just…waiting…outside. I don't even know what for. The night shift to show up and take over? All I wanted to do was to get away from there and take a shower. To wash him _off_ me."

Jo shuddered, her hand trailing lightly down the side of her face were Mac assumed she'd been tainted earlier by the vestiges of the shooting. He pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in. He could smell the scent of the harsh soap that filled the dispensers in the Lab - not her usual fragrance by any means. He imagined her standing under the hot water of that locker room shower for much longer than was physically needed, trying desperately to wash away the emotional scars, refusing to accept that they were impermeable to soap and water. That only time would serve to fade, but never erase, them.

She took a long, shuddering breath, nuzzling into Mac's shoulder. "Mac, I'll never forget the image of that gun firing right at me, my arms pinned to my sides. I couldn't do anything to stop any of it. I felt so completely out of control Mac. My life, in that moment, was completely…out…of my…control. I _hated_ that feeling."

He simply stood and held her until she began to shift in his embrace. Finally, she pulled back entirely. Mac stretched his arms out to enable him to keep his hands on her shoulders, not yet ready to let her go completely. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and glanced at herself in the mirror.

She swallowed hard. "Mac?"

"Yea?"

"I just…I need a minute. Ok? Go sit back down. I'll be out in a bit."

"Jo. I don't want to just leave you…"

"Mac, please. I'll be fine. I just need…to think."

He shook his head. "I'm not stopping you from thinking."

She sighed. "Mac. Please. I just need a moment alone."

He hesitated. "You sure?"

She nodded. "I'll be out in a minute."

He stood still, not wanting to leave her, hating the very idea of her staying alone in the cramped bathroom. Accompanied only by the memories of what had happened, what could have happened, replaying over and again in her mind. But eventually, he backed slowly away. She nodded towards him encouragingly, a somber smile on her face. He frowned, but turned around, leaving the door open, and slowly went back to sit alone at the table.

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing. Chapter 3 up tomorrow.**

**To Quille: Remember, a nice dinner has multiple courses even before the entree - at least when I'm cooking ;P**


	3. Chapter 3

**End of Previous Chapter:**

He stood still, not wanting to leave her, hating the very idea of her staying alone in the cramped bathroom. Accompanied only by the memories of what had happened, what could have happened, replaying over and again in her mind. But eventually, he backed slowly away. She nodded towards him encouragingly, a somber smile on her face. He frowned, but turned around, leaving the door open, and slowly went back to sit alone at the table.

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Lovers and Possibilities – Chapter 3

Mac sat, oddly still, at the dining table. Waiting. The apartment was strangely quiet. He'd expected to hear at least the sound of running water from the faucet, perhaps the toilet flushing, footsteps in the hall. But there was only silence. Despite his seemingly calm exterior, his emotions were close to unravelling. The only evidence being the fact that his eyes kept flickering down to glance at his watch. He'd decided he would give her five minutes before he went back to check on her in the bathroom. He was unused to seeing her in such a vulnerable state and it filled him with unease. Unease, accompanied by a mild feeling of ineptitude, he had to admit. He didn't know what more to do for her. Other than to just be with her. But she'd sent him away, so he was now at a loss.

He stared at his watch, watching the hands advance slowly, waiting for the five minutes to pass.

Four and a half minutes in, he heard a muffled jangle nearby - a sound he recognized immediately as that of her bracelets clanging together. His head shot up to see her standing, silently, in the doorway. Staring at him. He wondered fleetingly how long she'd actually been there. He rose, intending to go to her, but she came to him instead, sitting down in her chair next to him.

Sitting down again himself, he reached out and placed his hand over hers on the tabletop.

When she didn't flinch or move away, he took a stab at conversation. "How are you feeling?"

She nodded almost imperceptibly. "Better, I think."

He moved to speak, but she cut him off. "I'm sorry for…earlier."

He frowned. "Jo, there's no need to apologize. Or explain. What happened tonight is not something you just brush off." He traced the outline of one of her rings, hesitant to say this now, but feeling the need to be completely honest with her. "I just wish you'd told me earlier. It was obvious to me that you were hiding something all night, from your first words when you phoned me that second time from the scene. And it worried me. Scared me." He hesitated, but knew he had to continue. "And, honestly, it bothered me a little too. I would have hoped you'd felt comfortable enough to confide in me from the beginning."

She withdrew her hand from underneath his and rubbed it over her face, pondering what to say. "Mac I hadn't quite come to grips with it myself. You have to admit, you're not the most open person either. I'd expect you to understand. I'm sorry, but…" She suddenly looked over at him, her gaze meeting his, unwavering, for the first time that night. She took a deep breath. "Mac. It's been a very long time since I've had someone in my life. Someone who is there for me, who wants to be there for me, no matter what, no matter when. I just…I wasn't ready to open up yet when I got home."

His forehead creased. "Jo, you open up to me all the time at the Lab. Why should that change now? Because we're in the beginnings of a relationship? If anything, we should be more open. At least I hope that's where we're heading..."

He let his voice trail off and she looked at him a moment, her head cocked slightly to the side. He shifted slightly, suddenly uncomfortable under her piercing gaze. She took a deep breath. "Mac, that's just it. All those times I came to you. _I_ came to _You_. When _I_ was ready. I didn't come to you tonight – you were already here." She caught the look of hurt that flashed momentarily across his features and she reached out, trailing her finger under his chin, exerting just enough pressure to raise up his head so he was looking at her. "Don't get me wrong Mac. I'm glad you were here. That you _are_ here. It's just…gonna take some time for me to get used to that." She brought her hand back down to clasp his within her own. "Come on, you know me Mac. When I'm ready to talk, believe me, I will. There's no holdin' me back or turnin' me off." She smiled slightly and he grinned in return. "But until then…"

He nodded. "I do understand, Jo. I really do. No one could possibly hold a job like ours and come home with a smile on their face every single day. I don't expect that to happen. Sometimes it's just too much to 'leave behind at the office' so to speak. Claire was always very good about that. She was always there if I needed her; always willing to be patient if I wasn't ready yet." He frowned slightly. "Well, patient to a point at least." Jo smiled and he grinned back at her, but turned serious again a moment later. "I guess no the table are turned and I need to follow her example. Have some patience. It's important to have someone you can open up to, share your whole self with. The good and the bad."

"When you're ready." Jo clarified.

He chuckled. "Ok. When you're ready." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Just don't take too long."

Jo saw the mischievous glint in his expression and reached out to slap him playfully in the arm. "Come on, Mac. You're lecturing me now about 'sharing'and 'opening up'? Really? You?"

He frowned at her, rubbing exaggeratedly at his arm. Before he could speak, she closed her eyes and yawned widely, her hand suddenly raising up to cover her mouth. "Ooohhhh. Mac I'm so sorry." She eyed him sheepishly.

Mac looked on with amusement. "You know, you deserve a vacation after I come back full time."

She smiled widely, the first real, genuine smile that evening. "You trying to get rid of me already?" She reached out for her fork, eyeing the salad hungrily.

"No." He chuckled, but his expression turned serious immediately thereafter. "But I'm concerned. You're burning the candle at both ends, Jo. Your work in the Lab's been above and beyond since you showed up. I can't even guess how much it's taken over your life since I've been out. And you deserve a break. You can't do your job well if you're exhausted. I'm pretty sure you've informed me of that fact on more than one occasion."

She froze, her fork hovering in front of her mouth. "Are you trying to say that what happened tonight was due to my fatigue?"

Mac could hear the anger rising up in her response. He frowned in surprise. "No, Jo. That's not what I was saying at all. That's on the Unis who were supposed to clear the scene and keep it secure. You're not at fault, believe me. I'm just saying, I think you'd benefit from a little break. That's all I meant. Nothing more."

She sighed. "Oh Mac. You know me - I've always been a workaholic. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't busy working." She frowned. "But I don't work all the time, really. Ellie does occasionally need me, despite her feelings to the contrary. And anyway, I just got back from vacation with her, remember? A couple weeks ago. We do take vacations."

He shrugged. "I know. But I'm talking about taking a couple days off one week, just for yourself. To do something just for Jo Danville. It can do a world of good. It's not a sign of weakness. Everyone needs to take some time off every once in a while."

She looked at him askance. "I cannot believe you of all people, lecturing me first about opening up, now about taking time off. Have you looked into the side effects of that medication you're taking?"

He glared at her. "I just think you need to relax more."

Jo gestured at the table, at Mac. "I am relaxing. With you. That counts."

He shrugged. "Sure. It counts, I guess."

She eyed him. "Unless you keep lecturing me," she mumbled as an afterthought.

He looked at her a moment, deciding perhaps it was time to move the conversation forward. He put down his fork and cleared his throat. "There's chocolate ice cream for dessert."

The look that suddenly descended upon her face could only be described as one of pure rapture. She took a long breath in and covered her mouth with both hands. "Oh, Mac Taylor. I love you."

Mac could only respond with a hesitant chuckle, an expression of resigned bewilderment on his face as he slowly rose and headed towards the kitchen to prepare their dessert.

Upon finishing her second bowl of ice cream, Jo leaned back and patted her stomach contentedly, smiling over at Mac as she laid her spoon down.

"Thank you."

He shrugged. "It wasn't much. Anyone can go out and buy a pint of triple chocolate chunk ice cream."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't just mean for the ice cream. Or just dinner for that matter."

He nodded knowingly, a light smile gracing his features. "Dinner was certainly no trouble either. And I'm glad you told me what happened, eventually."

Mac reached out and stroked her cheek with his thumb. Jo closed her eyes, wishing she could just melt into him, letting his strength envelop her and fill all those places inside of her that tonight felt particularly hollow. "You know you can always talk with me, Jo. Confide in me."

Jo opened her eyes slowly, looking at him. She nodded. "I know that. When I'm ready."

Mac shook his head. She was as stubborn as he was.

They looked at each other. Mac realized his hand was still touching her cheek and he went to remove it, but her arm shot up seemingly from nowhere, her hand coming to rest over his own, pressing it more firmly against her smooth skin.

As she held his hand there, she looked directly into his eyes. In that moment, he could see the mixed emotions playing across her features. He could see the strength and self-confidence that were always there. The intelligence and compassion. Even that playful, flirty streak that seemed such an integral part of her personality. But tonight he was certain he could detect evidence of sadness and fear there as well. And…need. Suddenly, they closed. He realized that her face was now mere inches from his. And still moving slowly towards him. Before he knew what was happening, her lips touched his mouth. And he froze, for just an instant. He'd not wanted to go down this road tonight. Not after learning what had happened earlier tonight.

But when her mouth opened and her tongue slid across his lips he realized his ability to resist her was virtually nonexistent. He could barely stop thinking about her. That kiss, from last weekend, had haunted his thoughts, his dreams, for too long already. In fact, if he were to be completely honest, the mere thought of her had been haunting him for far longer. Now, all he wanted was to lose himself in her. Let her lose herself in him. To let them both forget what had happened, if only for a short while.

Decision made, he opened his mouth to her, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder blade in order to pull her body closer to him. His other hand slid from her cheek and began toying with a lock of her hair just above her right ear. Slowly, it trailed downwards, back to her cheek and down further, where it traced the outline of her necklace clasp just at the hollow of her neck.

A low moan emanated deep from Jo's throat. Mac could feel it vibrating against him. Her own hands found their way to the back of Mac's head, her nails grazing across his scalp, eliciting a number of never before heard sounds from him as well. His hand, still toying with that one particular spot on her neck, gradually began to follow the chain of her pendant further down her neckline.

Jo shuddered, one hand leaving the nape of his neck, gliding down over his chest, feeling the muscles quiver there. After a small detour over first one then the other of his nipples, it trailed down further yet, tracing the edge of his belt from his side, towards his abdomen, to the buckle...

The buzzing of her phone pierced the air.

Mac stilled and she pulled slowly away from his mouth. "Aghhh." She groaned. "Dammit."

She reached down and, with some difficulty, managed to extract her phone from her jeans pocket. She frowned and looked up at Mac. "It's Adam."

Mac was simply staring, at her swollen lips, her flushed cheeks, the tousled hair. He blinked once, then nodded to her, his hand, millimeters from reaching her cleavage, dropping flatly down onto her lap.

She scrunched up her face. "Sorry." And she pulled entirely away from him, answering the call as she stood up and headed towards the hallway again.

Mac sat still a moment, trying to regain control of his spinning emotions. A few deep breaths, a pinch to the bridge of his nose, and a drink of wine sufficed to calm him for the moment, and he rose to start clearing the dishes. They did have all evening...

Two minutes later, Jo walked slowly back into the dining room. Mac looked over at her questioningly. "Everything ok?"

She looked rather perplexed, but suddenly she burst into a huge smile.

"Adam was just calling to make sure I was ok. He offered to stop somewhere and bring me take out if I hadn't eaten. How sweet is that, Mac?"

Mac's lips tugged into a smile. "Sounds very Adam-like. What'd you tell him?"

She picked up the salad bowl to carry into the kitchen. "That I was just about to have passionate sex with our boss in the middle of my dining room table, but that he could stop by tomorrow morning with breakfast for us if he wants."

Mac sighed, rolling his eyes, and made a show of clanging pots and pans around in the sink. "What did you really tell him?"

She laughed. "I told him I'd be fine, that I invited a friend over so I wouldn't be alone."

He caught her pointed look at him and raised his brow. "Does this friend have a name?"

Jo shrugged. "Not as far as Adam knows." She giggled suddenly. "Oh my God, Mac if he had any idea what he'd interrupted…"

"…he'd turn a shade of red that would rival those tomatoes in the salad." Mac finished for her, the corner of his lip twitching as he imagined the look that might have surfaced on Adam's face.

They both smiled at each other. Jo reached to grab a plate off the table, but Mac reached out his own hand and placed it on her forearm, preventing her from doing anything further.

He looked at her pointedly. "Jo, what if you were alone right now? Ellie's out. What would you be doing now if you hadn't invited me to dinner?"

She shrugged slightly. She wasn't certain if he meant specifically tonight, after what had happened. Or just in general, on any random night she was alone. Which was most of them, she admitted grudgingly. She decided to play it safe and go with the latter. Glancing up at Mac with a look combining humor and despair, she offered, "Well, I'd like to say something impressive like reading Shakespeare or studying French, but honestly, I'd probably be eating a slice of cold, leftover pizza and watching some silly sitcom on tv. My private life's not that exciting Mac."

He looked at her rather neutrally for a moment. He'd wanted to know what she'd have done tonight, following her near death experience, if they hadn't already made plans for him to be here, waiting for her. Would she have called him? Someone else? Or spent the evening alone? He expected she'd known that's what he was asking. But he decided perhaps she'd had enough discussion of the events earlier that evening. So he let it go. Thinking back to her comment about the pizza, he grimaced. "Well, you'd be out of luck there because I threw out that piece of pizza. It looked decidedly - soggy is perhaps too forgiving a term."

She looked at him knowingly. That pause before he'd answered - he hadn't been asking a generic question about how she spent her evenings. But he'd let it go nonetheless. She smiled softly, perhaps as a gesture of thanks. Then suddenly she burst into laughter. "Oh that sorry slice of pizza. Yea, I guess it was from…well, a while ago. I forget."

He smiled and patted her shoulder. "Go relax Jo. I'll finish up here and join you in a minute."

"But Mac . . ."

"No buts. . ."

"But you cooked." He frowned at her but she continued. "I invited you and you ended up doing all the work. The least I can do is help clean up."

"Come on Jo, go rest. Go watch your silly sitcom or whatever. I know you – you've been at work for 14 hours with no break. Let me take over now. I hardly did anything today."

She shrugged. "Mac, you're recovering from a gunshot wound to the back, major reparative surgery. What did you expect to be doing? Preparing for the marathon?"

"Jo, that's not my point."

She arched her eyebrows, inviting him to continue with his 'point'.

He sighed and continued. "My point is, you worked all day. You told me earlier you're on call tomorrow. And dare I bring up the fact you nearly got shot a few hours ago. You should take a break. I already spent most of my day taking a break. It's my turn to work. No arguments allowed. Go. Sit."

She cocked her head, looking at him askance, a stubborn look on her face. "I'll have you know I don't take kindly to being ordered around."

He turned fully around so that he was facing her, laid down the dish towel he was holding, and started moving towards her, his eyes never leaving hers.

She stiffened, under the impression he was actually going to lift her up and carry her to the living room. But instead, he stopped a few inches from her and leaned to whisper in her ear. "I see someone's really let her role as 'boss' go to her head."

Jo raised her eyebrows, but Mac merely smiled and grabbed her wine glass from the table.

Handing it to her, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, put his hands on her shoulders, turned her towards the hall and pushed her ever so slightly in the direction of the living room. She turned back to look at him.

He smirked back. "Not a single word, order or otherwise, crossed my lips."

She glared at him. But then decided she couldn't really pass up an offer to clear the table that wasn't accompanied by a chorus of groans, complaints and pleas of mercy to allow for completion of too much homework. Her glare faded and she took a sip of wine before winking at Mac and turning to make her way to the couch.

Ten minutes later, Mac wiped off the dining table and hung the towel onto the rack to dry. He grabbed his wine glass and the bottle and headed towards the living room. As he approached the couch, he paused mid-step. Jo was sound asleep on the couch, half seated, half lounging, her head nodding down in an uncomfortably awkward position onto her chest, her knees bent and resting against the back cushion.

He hesitated, not certain what to do now. He walked quietly over and switched off the television. He placed his wine glass gently on the coffee table, sitting down heavily in the easy chair near the couch.

As he looked at her, he recalled the evening after her face-off with John Curtis. How he'd driven her home after she was cleared by the paramedics on scene. How she'd fallen asleep in that exact spot while they'd waited for a friend of hers to arrive. How he'd sat down in this same chair across from her, just watching her. Trying not to think of the terrible things that might have happened, but didn't. Rather like tonight, he thought sadly.

But that night, he also remembered feeling strangely disappointed that Jo had called someone else to come and be with her. To comfort her. To stay with her. An old friend, someone she'd known from the Bureau. When the woman had shown up, Jo was still asleep on the couch. Mac had hurriedly introduced himself, briefed her ever so quickly as to what had transpired, and left, feeling somehow . . . unfulfilled. Which in turn had made him feel guilty – this hadn't been about him, it had been about Jo. What she wanted. Needed. But he could still recall how he'd hoped she'd ask him to stay. To be there for her. Of course, he hadn't had the gumption to offer, either. Perhaps that's why he'd been so frustrated this evening when she'd closed up. Here he was, having finally gotten up the courage to show her how he felt over the past week, and she'd been unwilling, at least initially, to open up to him.

Glancing down at her on the couch, he smiled, realizing her wine glass was still in her hand, somehow perched precariously on her bent knee. He reached over, prized it from her grip and placed it on the coffee table. She didn't budge, and he chuckled softly. He didn't expect she'd be waking up anytime soon. With that thought in mine, he stood and gently stretched out each of her legs, so they were lying straight out on the couch. He then moved to upper body, trying to rearrange the pillows behind her head and back so that her head could fall back supported by them instead of leaning down onto her chest.

Satisfied she'd be somewhat more comfortable in this position, he sat back down into the chair and sighed. He could feel the fatigue beginning to set in himself. The aches creeping into his torso, across his center and through to his back. He was tired, to say the least. From the shooting range, shopping, carrying groceries, cooking. Perhaps his day hadn't been so empty after all. He eased himself back into the overstuffed chair and gazed at her sleeping form while he pondered whether to stay, or leave and let her get the rest she needed.

-\-\-\-\-

Mac awoke with a start and sat straight up in the chair, immediately fully alert, his eyes darting around, slightly puzzled. He saw Jo, still asleep on the couch and the evening's events came back quickly. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was nearly 11 p.m. He'd been asleep for nearly two hours. He rubbed his hands down his face.

Stretching out his aching body, he sighed as he watched Jo's chest rise and fall rhythmically as she breathed. He had to admit, he was disappointed. He'd been looking forward to tonight all week. And while the prospect of their relationship moving towards a more…physical plane had certainly been lurking in his thoughts since their last date, he'd also come to realize just how much he'd missed her mere presence all week. Being away from the Lab these past months, he'd come to understand just how he'd come to rely on her smiling face, her pleasant joking, her ability to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. Granted, that hadn't exactly been the outcome tonight. But that wasn't the point. Their date last week had left him desiring, needing, her in his life on a much larger scale than they'd shared to this point. More than just as a co-worker. More than just a date every week. He sighed. He just needed her in his life. Period. With the exception, perhaps, of tonight. Tonight, he knew now for certain – she needed to rest. And he knew his presence, whenever she awoke, wasn't going to be conducive to that.

He rose up slowly, and reached over, grabbing a piece of paper from the end table. He scrawled a quick note. "_Maybe next time we should try meeting for breakfast - perhaps we'll both have a better chance of staying awake! Get a good night's sleep. You deserve it. Call me in the morning, when you wake up. Maybe we can meet for coffee if you don't get called out first thing."_ He placed it on the coffee table next to her wine and turned, heading down the hall towards the bathroom before he left.

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing.**

**Chapter 4…well, soon – we're having work done in our house and they keep threatening to turn off the power later this week. Keep you're fingers crossed it doesn't happen tomorrow!**


	4. Chapter 4

**End of Previous Chapter:**

He rose up slowly, and reached over, grabbing a piece of paper from the end table. He scrawled a quick note. "_Maybe next time we should try meeting for breakfast - perhaps we'll both have a better chance of staying awake! Get a good night's sleep. You deserve it. Call me in the morning, when you wake up. Maybe we can meet for coffee if you don't get called out first thing."_ He placed it on the coffee table next to her wine and turned, heading down the hall towards the bathroom before he left.

**A/N: Just a reminder, this fic is rated "M" – for explicit sex (yes, finally).**

Lovers and Possibilities Chapter 4

Jo's eyes shot open suddenly and she sat up with a gasp and a violent jerk of her neck, the image of a gun pointing at her head still at the forefront of her sleep-fogged thoughts. She rubbed her shaking hands across her gritty eyes and blinked a few times as she got her bearings. She was lying on her couch. In the dark. She wrinkled her brow. She'd had dinner with Mac, but he didn't seem to be here now. He'd been cleaning – perhaps he was still in the kitchen? A quick glance made it clear all the lights were off. But she didn't recall him leaving. Surely he wouldn't have left without saying goodbye…?

She glanced over at the coffee table and spotted the slip of paper next to her wine glass. She reached out and snatched it up, reading quickly. Squinting at the clock on the nearby end table, she saw it was 11:10 p.m. She panicked slightly, wondering what time he'd left the note.

Sitting up straighter on the couch, she jammed her hand into her pocket, grabbing her phone and dialing Mac's number. She wasn't certain what she was going to say, but she knew she didn't want to be alone now. If she was lucky, perhaps he was still near – maybe outside waiting for a cab. She listened to the first ring…which was apparently emanating from somewhere in her hallway. She furrowed her brow in confusion, staring down at her phone and double checking the number she'd just dialed. She heard the ring again, this time even closer. "What the…" she murmured. As she glanced up towards the sound, Mac suddenly appeared at the entrance to the hallway, eyeing his phone with a similarly confused look on his own face. She jumped, nearly dropping her phone. "Oh Lord Mac. I thought you'd left. I read your note and…"

Mac stopped in his tracks, staring from her, to his phone and back again. He quickly recovered, though, and shot her a playful smile. He accepted her call and spoke into the phone instead of directly to her. "Hey. You're awake. I was in the bathroom. But I am about to leave..."

"Oh. No Mac. Don't go." He could hear the disappointment in her voice. She ended the call and stared at him. Mac did the same, the smile fading from his mouth.

She swallowed. Mac, I don't think I want to be alone tonight. I'd really like your company. Please stay."

"Jo, I think you need to get some sleep, and I doubt my staying is going to help that happen," he said slowly, approaching the couch.

She sighed. "I just woke up, Mac." She took a rather unsteady breath. "I'm not tired."

"Jo. The fact you fell asleep on the couch at 9 o'clock at night tells me you were exhausted, and probably need more than two hours of sleep."

She blew out a frustrated breath, leaning her forehead into her hand. "Ohh, Lord, aren't I just a hoot to hang out with! God, Mac I'm so sorry. I've been looking forward to tonight all week. And what do I do – I fall asleep after an hour." She laughed slightly and looked at him. "I swear, it wasn't your company."

"Well, I was beginning to worry." He chuckled. "Actually I dozed off in the chair for a couple hours myself."

Jo threw back her head and rolled her eyes. "Aghh. What does that say about us Mac? Both of us falling asleep in the living room barely past 9 p.m.?"

Mac smiled. "I think it just says we were both tired. Nothing more."

She smiled back at him, the familiar glint returning to her eyes. "Well, we did both just take naps – we shouldn't still be _that_ tired. I'm feeling pretty perky myself." And she sat up fully on the couch, swinging her feet back to the floor and sliding over to the side to make room for him. She patted the cushion nearby. "Sit down Mac."

Her tone was serious now, and he approached, sitting sat down next to her on the couch and eyeing her somewhat warily. He knew that they'd both assumed tonight would culminate with some sort of intimate continuation of their last date. It almost had in the dining room earlier. But it just didn't seem right to Mac at the moment. The events at her crime scene earlier, their obvious fatigue. He wanted this to be something that came about naturally. Not something for which the expectation of achieving the moment took precedence over the enjoyment of it.

She yawned once and stretched out her arms, rolling her shoulders as her hand reached back to rub her neck.

"You ok?" He asked, looking hard at her face.

She shrugged. "A bit stiff. And…I dreamt about what happened. Typical, I realize. But disconcerting nonetheless." She nodded her head. "But, yea, I'm good. And I'm sorry I keep wrecking the mood tonight."

He frowned. "Jo, you're not wrecking any 'mood'…"

She shook her head, refusing to let him continue.

"Mac. I've been looking forward to this night all week. To being with you. I'll venture a guess you have too." He blushed slightly but said nothing. She continued. "I'll admit, my run in with that Glock earlier kinda pulled me down a path I wasn't anticipating tonight. And it took me a little time to pull myself back out. But I have to say, my little catnap on the couch did a world of good." She blinked and a small smile broke out on her face. "Come on, Mac. Don't tell me you haven't thought back to that kiss last weekend? Shoot, my mind's already wandering back to the dining room earlier tonight." She looked over at him, her eyebrow raised. "We are on the couch now – it's a little more comfortable. Please. Stay."

He took a deep breath and watched as she reached her hand out and stroked the slight evening roughness of his cheek.

He reached up and placed his hand over hers, but rather than caress her as she'd expected, he increased the pressure enough to stop her movement. He shook his head, a subtle smile playing across his features. "Jo."

She looked at him curiously. "Is this not what you want? I thought you wanted our relationship to move to something beyond just co-workers, more than just friends. What about last weekend? Tonight at the table?"

"You're right Jo. I do want…more. Believe me, I do. I'm just not sure now's the time to take that step. There's no need to…rush. I'm happy just to spend time with you. But not at the expense of your well-being. You've been pushing yourself to the limit and now, you need to take care of yourself. I'll stay if you want. But maybe I'll just take the couch."

Her shoulders sagged slightly and he noted a slight pout on her features. She shifted on the couch, leaning in slightly towards him as if she were about to speak, when suddenly her breath seethed, her hand clasping her shoulder.

He moved closer to her. "Jo?"

Her hand rubbed at the back of her neck, just above her left shoulder. "Ahh. It's nothing. Just a stiff neck."

Her expression made it clear it wasn't just 'nothing'. He reached out and placed his hand over hers as it kneaded the muscle. "Is this from the arm lock earlier? At the scene?" He gently moved her hand out of the way and leaned in to look more closely at her. "Were you checked out? Maybe you should see a doctor…"

She shook her head, but froze as another searing pain shot through her neck. "No, Mac. It's just from sleeping on the couch. I should know better."

He shifted so that he was directly facing her and gently maneuvered her shoulders so that she was facing away from him. "Here, let me give you a massage. Try to relax those muscles a little. See if it helps any."

His fingers began kneading first the muscles of her upper neck, working slowly downwards until they reached the taught tendons above her shoulder. His rough fingers dug into her soft skin and she groaned in pain initially. But as his hands continued to move slowly, rhythmically back up, then back down again, the groans were slowly replaced by soft sighs. He continued his manipulation, varying the pressure, the angle. Eventually, he could feel the tension receding little by little. Feel her relaxing back into his touch instead of shying away from it. He reduced the pressure, until it was no more than a feather-light whisper through the light cotton of her t-shirt.

She let out one final sigh and turned slowly to look at him over her shoulder. "Oh, my God, Mac. You're moving in, tonight, right? That's absolutely the best shoulder massage anyone's ever given me. You might want to look into a new career. I'd pay big money at a spa for what you just did to me." She stretched out luxuriously on the couch, her legs in front of her, her back leaning on Mac.

He smiled shyly at her. "I'm not sure I could duplicate it for someone I didn't care for as much as I do you." His words were spoken so softly, she wasn't certain he'd actually intended for her to hear.

She froze for a moment, then shifted back around so that her knees were touching his, her upper body facing him. She said nothing, just gazed back at him. Her face, serious, serene.

"Mac. Please..." She reached out and placed her hand tentatively over his own. Holding it there, unmoving, for just a moment. Then gradually, painstakingly slowly, brushing her fingers over his knuckles. "Please stay tonight."

He knew that she meant more than just his prior offer of sleeping on the couch. He hesitated. Something that had been gnawing at him all week surfaced again in his mind. He frowned, but took a deep breath and spoke. "Listen, I think I might need to mention something - while we seem to be on the subject of where our evening…might possibly be headed…" he paused, trying to figure out how best to word this.

She eyed him, waiting patiently for him to speak his mind.

"Well, I guess what I'm trying to say…there are no guarantees…I mean, I'm not certain…" and he trailed off, looking shyly at her, wishing her damned perceptiveness would just kick in right now so he didn't have to say this out loud.

But she simply cocked her head and looked at him.

He tried again. "I just don't know if I'm up for…"

She smiled sweetly. "Not sure you're fully functional yet?

He frowned. "Well, no, not that…it might be more of…an endurance issue. I haven't exactly tested it out. I just…the least bit of exertion and I get so damned tired…"

Jo sighed dramatically. "Mac Taylor. Despite my intense and, perhaps very obvious desire for you, I'm really not with you just for the promise of wild sex. I actually do care for you. Quite a bit, I might add. And you'll never know what you're capable of 'til you try." She flashed him a huge smile.

Mac exhaled loudly. "Well, of course, I 'care' for you too. And I didn't mean to assume we were heading towards…well…" he hesitated slightly.

"Wild sex?" She finished for him. He made a move to respond, but she cut him off by reaching out and drawing her finger languidly down his lips. When she withdrew it, her hand came to rest not in her own lap, but on his knee, where she began stroking his leg absentmindedly. "Well, I suppose you're right, we shouldn't assume anything. Although, I must say, my curiosity was certainly piqued after last weekend's kiss. Even more so after our little dinner interlude. You are one hell of a kisser Mac Taylor. I can't tell you how often I caught my mind wandering off this whole week, full of thoughts of just what might follow on from that little kiss we shared…"

Mac shifted slightly, shaking his head. She wasn't going to back down. And at this point, he decided he probably really didn't want her to. He looked over at her, a tiny sparkle in his eye. "Well, in that case, how 'bout we revisit that kiss and just see where it might lead us tonight. Seems like a relatively safe place to start. And I'm pretty certain that's what you're angling for about now anyway. At least to begin with."

"You catch on fast, huh?" Her hand stroking his leg began moving further and further up, but her eyes kept his gaze.

"I aim to please." He smirked slightly.

"Mmmm. I thought as much. Let's just see about that," she breathed, her voice low and tempting.

He waited a moment, sensing she was about to say something more. But she didn't.

She merely stared over at him. Watching. Waiting. She looked on as Mac's hand finally reached out, albeit tentatively, towards her. Her lips trembled in anticipation. Her eyes fluttered closed, expecting his gentle touch to alight on her cheek. As he'd done those few times before. She'd craved that very touch. All week. Found herself daydreaming about it at work, while making dinner, on the subway, in bed. She jumped slightly when, instead, she felt his fingers alight first on her neck. Grazing along the length of her necklaces, tracing their cascading path, down towards her cleavage. Just as he'd done in the dining room, earlier tonight. She felt a surge of heat rise up through her and settle directly in her core as his hand lingered just at the valley of the neckline of her t-shirt, seemingly frozen there. She shifted slightly, readjusting her legs, her center suddenly feeling oddly heavy. Her eyes remained closed, her breath coming in short, sudden gasps, waiting to see what he would do next, praying he'd continue, do something, anything.

Mac stared at her a moment, hesitant; but realizing what was about to happen was most likely inevitable, he leaned in slowly towards her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his lips finally make contact with hers at the precise moment his hand brushed down to fleetingly caress her left nipple through her shirt. His hand came to rest just underneath the swell of her breast, cupping its heaviness. In response, her upper body leaned forward into his hand, caressing it lovingly. Her hand reached out a breath later to curl around the nape of his neck, putting just enough pressure there to bring his face even closer to hers, his mouth even harder against her own. He opened his mouth slightly, his tongue just barely tracing the outline of her lips. She felt his hot breath on her mouth and when she parted her own lips, his tongue instantly surged inside, his free hand snaking upwards to the curve of her neck to provide him some leverage, tangling in her hair as it did so.

Oh God, how she'd thought of this moment so many times over the week. Thoughts, feelings, emotions were spiraling out of control inside her brain and she couldn't restrain the soft moan that escaped from her lips as she opened them wider to exhale.

When he found himself becoming short of breath, he pulled back slightly, looking down at her face as he inhaled deeply. Her cheeks were already flushed a deep crimson, her lips swollen and glistening from their kiss, her eyes nearly closed. He watched as she opened them slowly, part way, to gaze up at him, curious as to why he'd stopped.

"God, you are so beautiful," he murmured.

She was a mere whisper away from his face. He could hear her breath, feel it tickle and warm his chin. He felt a tremor begin to build its way up his spine. "Mac." Jo half spoke, half moaned. Despite their seeming closeness, they'd been apart way to long. And suddenly, her lips crashed onto his again. Mac didn't even try to muffle the low groan that rose up from the depths of his throat. He too had thought about their last kiss more than a few times over the past week. And to finally feel her soft mouth on his again, her hands on his body, was almost more than he could handle.

Jo found herself moaning deeply through the kiss as it set off a series of sparks throughout her body. She reached down suddenly and in one quick movement, untucked his shirt from his pants and, after undoing only two of the buttons near the collar, yanked it upwards. As Mac withdrew from her mouth just in time to avoid being strangled by his shirt, she managed to pull it off, almost entirely, over his arms and head. One recalcitrant sleeve got tangled at his elbow and, frustrated, she groaned, trying to manipulate the material the way she wanted it. As she tugged on the shirt body, Mac yanked his arm, hard, and finally broke free of the sleeve, the shirt drifting down to the floor. The offending clothing finally out of the picture she leaned in yet again and took his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking hard. Her hands began sliding across the bare skin of his chest, across his shoulders, down his bicep and then back, to start again.

The feel of her hands fluttering delicately across his muscles was driving him mad. He needed more, more contact from her, but even more importantly, more contact _with _her. Seeing, feeling, that she was still fully clothed, he realized just how badly he'd longed to feel her skin against his, to touch more than just her face, her hair. His hand, still cupping her breast, moved upwards slightly towards the buttons at her neckline.

But before he could reach out and deal with her shirt, she moved, and with an uncontrolled sigh, she shifted her whole body, putting her weight on her left knee so that she could throw her right leg over his lap, straddling him. She lowered herself gently onto him, a soft gasp escaping her mouth as she distinctly felt him, right there, right against her, hard and unyielding. "Oh, Mac."

She ground herself against him once, then twice, causing his hips to buck uncontrollably into her, his mouth to utter some unintelligible sound. Rather brusquely, he slid one hand between their upper bodies and began unbuttoning the small buttons at the neckline of her t-shirt. She pulled back suddenly and uttered a pointed "No." Mac froze, unable to hide the look of disappointment he knew would be all too evident on his face right now in response to her not so gentle reprimand.

But focusing his eyes on her, he sighed in relief as he watched her simply grab the hem of her shirt and quickly pull it over her head, tossing it on the floor. She smirked at him. "You clearly have more patience than I do. I hate buttons."

Their mouths crashed together once again, Mac's rough fingers first toying with the lace of her bra, then pushing it aside to caress her bare skin. He then moved on to her other side. Eventuallyl, becoming frustrated with the limitations set by even the thin lace of her bra, he thrust both hands behind her and deftly unclasped it. Moving back slightly, he pulled it off her arms and dropped it onto the ground. He leaned in quickly to suck first one, then the other nipple into his mouth, his hand occupying whichever was free at the moment.

As they continued, he lost some of his focus and his ministrations became more frantic. Jo didn't seem to notice as her sole focus at the moment was removing Mac's pants. She'd managed to unclasp the belt and button, and lower the zipper halfway, but her continued efforts appeared to be futile. The friction of her hands against his zipper, against his straining manhood underneath, was driving him insane. His hand left her breast so that he could use it to push himself upwards, hoping that would provide her with the room she needed to manipulate the zipper.

She groaned in frustration. "Oh, Mac, take off your damn pants. Please."

Withdrawing his mouth from her other breast, and uttering what could only be a mix between a laugh and a groan, he gently lifted her off his lap, placing her on the couch as he stood and removed his pants. He left his boxers on, but before he could move next to her, she reached out and yanked them down his legs so that they pooled at his feet.

Mac froze suddenly, not because of his nakedness, but out of the realization that the livid scar across his abdomen was directly in her line of view. Jo sensed his sudden discomfort and rose up, pressing her body gently to his, stroking her hands up and down his torso slowly, meaningfully, exploring every plane and curve of his midsection. She passed only fleetingly over the scar, once, twice, then returned to his chest. She could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh and she shuddered, realizing just how close he was to where she wanted to feel him.

She pressed her face to his, her lips centimeters from his ear, and whispered. "Mac. Make love to me."

Bolstered by her clear need and forgetting his scar for the moment, Mac reached down and quickly removed her jeans, leaving only her black lace panties. He traced the edges slowly with his fingertip, once around her waist. Then around her left thigh. Then the right. Finally, unexpectedly sudden, his finger snaked under the edge of the crotch and she gasped as she felt him stroke her, right there. Where she ached for him most.

He slid into her wetness. First one finger, exploring. Then a second. She opened her stance, pressed her body even closer to his, as his fingers began massaging her. Slowly, evenly at first. Then picking up the pace, becoming more erratic. She leaned into him, unable to completely support her own weight anymore. Without even realizing it, she began moving her hips in time with the movement of his fingers. In. Out. In. Out. Mac's other hand trailed upwards to her breast and began massaging, toying with the nipple, following the same motion, the same rhythm as her hips, his fingers. Her breath was coming in gasps, her voice escaping from her throat in a series of shuddering moans and sighs.

Barely cognizant of anything but the growing knot of tension at her center, her hands slid around to his back, then downwards, her nails digging into his bottom. Forcing him harder yet against her. The pressure from his pelvis causing his hand to move even more forcefully against her over sensitive nerves.

His cock was pressed painfully against her thigh, constricted further every time she pulled his hips into hers, against hers. The stimulation was overwhelming. He feared he might climax like this, without ever having entered her, and he vaguely tried to shift his position, when suddenly he felt her body tense. And everything seemed to come to a standstill. She inhaled with a gasp of air that remained locked inside her lungs, her fingers gripped Mac's ass hard, refusing to release the now tender skin, her right thigh planted itself against his swollen member, and her face burrowed into Mac's chest. Then, in one split second, everything released as a tremendous wave of pleasure exploded deep within her. He could feel her muscles begin to clench against his fingers in continuous waves, her breath exhale in one long, drawn out moan, her hips recommence their frantic pulsing. And then, with no warning, she nearly collapsed onto him, thoroughly spent. He withdrew his fingers, needing his hand to help hold her against him so they didn't fall.

He could feel her body shudder against him. Feel her lips trembling. Part of him wanted to sit down with her gently, to caress every part of her body, to lovingly bring her back to the present. But the urge to seek his own release was overriding. Still panting, he lowered her onto the couch and reached out, tucking his thumbs under the elastic of her panties and sliding them down her legs, to her ankles and over her feet.

This movement seemed to bring her back to her sense and, realizing Mac had been left unfulfilled, she quickly sprung to life. Reaching out, she grasped either side of his waist and pulled slightly, indicating he should lower himself onto the couch next to her.

Before lowering his body, he reached out to caress her cheek, trying to get her to look at him. "Jo…do we need…"

Her eyes still looked slightly glazed, her words slurred. But she'd understood. "Mmm. Yea. My purse. By the door."

He leaned down to give her a quick kiss, then strode the few steps to the door, picking up her bag and handing it over to her. As he watched her rummaging in its depths, he couldn't help himself, "You managed to buy condoms but not groceries for tonight?"

She pulled out the unopened box, still in the brown paper sack, and shot him a provocative smile. "Mac, you can always order out for food when the need arises. Not so much with condoms."

And she pulled out one of the metallic wrappers and began tearing it open with her teeth. Half open, she placed it on the coffee table and motioned for him so join her on the couch. "Whenever you're ready."

He climbed over her and she cuddled into him. Their lips met instantly, and Mac couldn't keep his hands from further exploring the rise of her breasts. As she shifted slightly to give him more room, her hip slid against his erection with painful precision. He gasped, unable to speak for the moment. Then, "Jo…" It sounded like a plea.

She leaned in to kiss him and trailed her right foot up his leg, her knee grazing over his thigh. She felt him shudder under her touch and she reached down with her hand, grasping him in her palm, first gently, then with increased pressure.

His hips bucked, unbidden, into her grip and he pulled his mouth from hers. "Jo. Be careful."

She froze, her hand going limp. "Oh, God. Did I hurt you?" Despite the look of concern and hesitancy in her eyes, her voice, it's breathless, throaty tone, betrayed her need.

Mac took a long, shaky breath before responding. "Not exactly."

She understood immediately and, with one last light graze up the length of his shaft with her fingernails, she removed her hand, entangling it instead in his hair.

Within moments, she knew she could wait no longer. "Now. Mac. I…need…"

He wasted no time in responding to her barely voiced request. He reached out across her, his hand searching blindly for the condom packet she'd left out on the table. Finally grasping it, he rose up and off her slightly, sliding the condom over himself and looking deeply into her eyes before positioning himself over her body.

Jo reached down and grasped him once again, this time positioning himself directly at her entrance. Mac's eyes closed and he lowered himself slowly onto her, into her. An uncontrollable tremor coursed through his body as he felt her envelop his thickness, and he paused a moment, trying to regain control of his suddenly all-consuming need for her. A deep sigh emanated from his mouth.

A moment later, she lifted her hips up to meet him and his entire length finally slid inside of her. It was her turn to let out a heartfelt moan. "Oh, God, Mac." Mac's breath seethed with the effort of not withdrawing immediately and pounding back into her right from the start. He forced himself to wait until she moved slightly, her hips raising up again to meet his, indicating she was ready for even more.

He tried to maintain slow, even pace. But he couldn't. He was so aroused by this point, he wasn't able to restrain his body and he moved, in and out of her, faster and faster, harder and harder. Her murmurs of "More" followed by "God, yes" only served to encourage him further.

Until the ache. It started in his lower abdomen. Quickly spreading outwards and back. Gaining strength and intensity. Within less than a minute, his pace slowed. His breath became labored. Jo opened her eyes, sensing a sudden change in his demeanor. His energy was clearly flagging, whether from exhaustion, or pain or both, Jo couldn't quite tell.

She stopped moving, her hand pressed against his shoulder in attempt to make him do the same. Her breath was coming in gasps, but she managed nonetheless to get her point across. "Mac. Don't. Stop. Another time."

She swallowed, trying to get her breathing back in order. "Mac, lie down…on your back."

His own breath was ragged and he was barely able to respond. "Jo. I'm…fine."

"Mac. Just lie on your back," she repeated. She caught the stubborn frown on his face and frowned at him in turn. "It works that way too you know."

He let out a choked laugh, but still refused to move. "I'm aware of that, but tonight…"

She groaned. "You are so damn stubborn. Mac Taylor if you don't turn over onto your back right now I swear to high heaven I'm gonna force you myself."

Mac caught the look in her eye and raised his eyebrows slightly, but still didn't move.

Jo narrowed her eyes. "I bet you'd like that wouldn't you? If I forced you?" Her previous annoyance had all but disappeared and her voice was low and sultry this time.

He smirked. "Maybe another time." And slowly, without ever taking his gaze from hers, he pushed himself up with his arms, allowing her to slide over and make room for him to sidle down next to her on the couch. He slowly rolled onto his back as she rose up to mount him.

She hovered over him only a moment before lowering herself slowly on top of him. Wary of the scar, she remained upright, gyrating her hips first in one direction, then the other, gauging his reaction from the changing expressions on his face.

The way she rode him, the sensations she was creating, were sending him over the edge. But he realized he wanted more. He wanted to feel her mouth on his. God, he wanted to feel her breasts pressed against his chest. To take their hardened buds into his mouth. But she seemed hesitant to lean lower towards him.

"Jo. Come closer. Lean down."

"I don't. . .wanna hurt you Mac." She was panting heavily.

"You won't. Please. Closer."

She finally leaned forwards, and they both groaned. Mac, from the heaviness of her breasts against his chest, the hardness of her nipples grazing his own. Jo, from the increased stimulation she gained as her pelvis ground directly against him. She began rocking back and forth, first slowly, methodically. Then, with increase passion as she felt her second climax building in her core. Emanating outwards through her entire body, where it seemed to pool in her fingertips.

She was so close, God, if she didn't find release in the next few seconds, she was sure she would implode.

"Oh God, Mac."

She knew she was being way too vocal for the thin walls of her apartment building. But she couldn't bring herself to tone it down. With the last remaining reserve of strength, she pulled his face closer to hers, her tongue seeking out his mouth, providing a safe outlet for her cries just as her climax peaked, rolling over her in waves.

Mac felt her orgasm wash through her, wash over him – from the frantic gyrations of her hips, to the tremors that coursed through her body, the waves of her muscles clamping down on him. He slid his hands onto her ass and pulled her down even further onto him. One more thrust, and he exploded into her. Finally. The sweet release so beautiful it nearly hurt.

They both lay still, bathed in a fog of euphoria. Once Jo managed to achieve some level of clarity, she realized she was lying with all her weight on Mac. She shifted slightly and slid down from him.

Once they'd both managed to regain their breath, Mac reached over and stroked Jo's cheek. "Jo. I'm sor—"

Before he could finish the word she clamped her hand over his mouth and gave him

a glare that Mac was sure would have stopped a charging bull.

"Mac Taylor so help me God if you apologize for any part of what we just shared together I WILL kick you out of my bedroom and never allow you back in."

He merely nodded in acquiescence, unable to utter more than a muffled "Omff" from behind the confines of her hand pressed over his mouth.

She eyed him skeptically before slowly drawing back her hand.

He swallowed, but couldn't resist a lighthearted quip. "We didn't actually make it to the bedroom yet you know."

She groaned and narrowed her eyes at him. "You are incorrigible Mac Taylor, I swear."

He grinned at her and she shifted slightly so that she was better balanced in the small space between his body and the edge of the couch. She eyed him a moment. "Seriously, are you ok?"

He smiled weakly, his eyes only half open. "Never better." He slurred, sighing deeply and burrowing further down into the couch cushions. "You?"

She smiled widely. "I feel amazing." She reached out to stroke his cheek, her face mere inches from his. "And very much alive," she whispered.

His eyes, which had nearly shut, managed barely to pry themselves open again for just a moment and he smiled. "That you definitely are," he sighed.

She looked on as Mac's smile faded, the fatigue, the pain, the medication all combining to whisk him into slumber no matter how much he fought against it.

Jo smiled. Realizing they weren't going to make it to the bedroom at all tonight, she reached up and grabbed a throw from the back of the couch and covered them both with it. She snuggled close to him, placing her arm around his chest. She knew she'd have a monumental backache tomorrow from sleeping on the edge of the couch, but she could care less. Perhaps Mac would give her another massage. She smiled at that thought, and as she too succumbed to sleep, she found herself hoping against hope that she'd make it through the next several hours without a call, so that they could savor this new bond and wake up together in each others arms in the morning.

~_fin_


End file.
